


The Event Horizon

by Operamatic



Category: Megamind (2010)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-13
Updated: 2011-12-13
Packaged: 2017-10-27 07:02:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/292928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Operamatic/pseuds/Operamatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a boy, Megamind discovers what happened to his home.  As a man, he discovers where his new one is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Event Horizon

Megamind is six years old, but everyone at home calls him Little Blue.  He doesn’t mind, because he is small and blue, so the name is apt.

He is sitting quietly during lunch hour, his leg chained helpfully to his chair (so he won’t fall out, he thinks) reading a book from the lending library.  His prison dads shake their heads; it isn’t natural for a boy his age to be reading, especially in French. 

He’s reading Voltaire again, though what he really wants is a book on the French Revolution, but the guards think Robespierre will give him bad ideas.

“Oy, kid,” one of the inmates says, “Books ain’t gonna help you when you get outta the joint,”

Little Blue looks up.  It’s his Uncle Leon with the spider tattoo.  He smiles.

“But I’ll need to know this stuff when my Mom and Dad come to take me home!”

The inmates look at each other somberly.  It was a mistake to let him watch E.T.  He’s been talking about going home for the last three months, as if it were a given.  They’re not sure what worries them more, the thought of aliens touching down on their city, or the thought of them never coming at all.

Finally, Uncle Leon moves over to the boy, and sets the book away from them.

“Little Blue, what do you remember from before you came here?”  The boy does have a ridiculous memory, and the giant brain is probably why.

“Ummmm,” Little Blue purses his lips and wrinkles his tiny nose, “I remember lots of lights, and big red letters, and lots of people talking really high and loud, like at the riots!”  Little Blue liked the riots, they were _exciting_ ,

“And um…Mom and Dad gave me Minion,” the fish sleeps soundly in his little globe resting in the boy’s lap, “And um…” he pauses, “And they said I was destined for….something,” he looked at Uncle Leon, all big acid green eyes and lavender cheeks, “So that means I came here for a reason, and then they’ll come take me home and I’ll tell them all the neat stuff I learned!”

Uncle Leon’s brow furrows at this news.  They’ve never asked about Little Blue’s home before, but it doesn’t bode well.

“Why d’you s’pose there was lights flashin’” he asks slowly

“Probly cuz they were throwing me a goodbye party,” Little Blue reasons.

“And them words…what were they?”                                            

“Um…” Little Blue thinks for a long time, and finally, ventures a guess, his pronunciation tweaked by Voltaire and whatever else he’s been gleaning out of the library.

“ _Pah-nice_?” Panic.  “ _Ah-lehr_?” Alert.

The inmates look at each other sadly.  They understand.  Wasn’t this the story they’d always read about in the comics?  The alien child whose home was destroyed?

“Little Blue…” Uncle Leon starts.  It takes him a long time to finish.  His words are roundabout, and with each stammered statement, he sees the boy’s eyes grow dimmer, and his smile fades.  While his words are not succinct, the message is clear.

 

 _Your parents aren’t coming back for you.  No one is coming back for you._

 

When he finishes, Little Blue’s eyes begin to gloss, and big, wet tears roll down his face.  He says nothing, but lets out a long, wrenching wail.  It’s a normal sound for a six-year old.  But it’s not a normal sound for Little Blue.

His shaking, stuttering sobs jostle Minion awake, and he tries to soothe his master to no avail.

Little Blue knows big boys don’t cry, especially in prison, but he feels he is justified.

His uncles are not used to this, and with several shrugs they stand around the sobbing child, placing their hands on his shoulders and squeezing in an attempt for comfort.

It doesn’t help.

 

 

 

Little Blue is thirteen, but he’s not sure what to call himself anymore.  He wants to be something respected.  Something feared.  He’s been tearing through his books and notes, trying to find something appropriate.

But today he’s taking a break.  Instead, he’s managed to sneak his way to the observatory.  This isn’t the first time he’s broken out, but it’s been the quietest.  It’s the dead of night when he breaks through the entrance.  Minion protests at some point, mentioning the mess that will have to be cleaned up, but manages to commend his master for the thoughtful use of his binky.

Little Blue sits himself at the large console, all blinking lights and delicate instruments.  He enjoys this set up, it’s relaxingly intelligent compared to what he’s used to.  He hacks into the computers easily.  He wonders if NASA has codes this simple, perhaps they all use the same combination of birthdays and first pet names.

He looks up dates.  Atmospheric disturbances.  Solar flares.  Astral anomalies.  Anything.

Minion asks him what he’s up to.  He won’t answer.  The fish shivers with concern at what they might find.

Finally, Little Blue sees it.  A small log indicating a dense cloud cluster some several light years away.  Far enough not to be a problem, close enough to observe.  The cloud is made up of gas and particulates, the log states, most likely the remainders of asteroids sucked into a black hole.

A black hole.

Little Blue rushes to the telescope.  Of course he can’t be one hundred-percent accurate.  Of course he has to account for the passage of time.  But he gets close.  He remembers the asteroid field, and he remembers the two huge planets, one blue, one red, sinking away from him.

He finds an empty area.  Simply empty in the whole of space with some dust for decoration.  He doesn’t need to know that he’s accurate.  His gut tells him its home.

He checks the large charts on the wall.  It’s in the Whirlpool Galaxy, in somewhere called the Glaupunkt Quadrant.

Glaupunkt.  It sounds familiar.

It sounds like the place he should be.

 

 

 

Little Blue is thirty years old, but everyone calls him Megamind.  He chose it himself.

He’s sitting on a grassy hillside with the girl he loves, on a blanket with the expanse of the stars above them.

“It’s nice to get out of the city,” Roxanne says softly, “You never get to see the stars,”

He murmurs in agreement, his eyes fixed on the dark sky above them.He can’t see it from here, but he knows there’s still an empty pocket out there filled with memories that aren’t his.Roxanne picks up on this and places a hand on his cheek.




“You okay?” she asks, her face soft, all blue eyes and rosy cheeks.

“Oh yes, don’t worry I’m just…” he licks his lips, “thinking, about things,”

Roxanne gives him one of her _looks_.  Her _looks_ that consist of a quirked eyebrow and a set mouth and firm gaze that says _I’m not buying it_.

He concedes.

“I’m thinking about the planet that I came from,”

Her mouth forms a round little o, and she bites her lip and scoots closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” She lets her hand play across his collarbone and rest above his heart.  “Do you…remember anything?  You must miss it…your home.”  Nosy reporter skills are hard to let go, he thinks.  She waits patiently on his answer. 

And he thinks hard about that cold, empty space.  And he thinks about the warm, vibrant city they live in.  The people and the lights.  And he thinks about the woman next to him, with her soft skin and big eyes and hair that smells like coffee and cinnamon.  He thinks about how she’s lying against him right now, her head under his chin, her hand splayed across his chest.

He takes that hand in his own and smiles.

“No…this is my home now.”


End file.
